


Sugar and Spice

by FrankenSpine



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Complete, Cooking, Cunnilingus, Don't read if this is not your thing, F/F, Fine Dining, Food Critic, Food Kink, Food Sex, Plot Twists, Sex and Chocolate, Shower Sex, Sushi, Vaginal Fingering, fair warning, you probably know where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-13 21:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20180635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenSpine/pseuds/FrankenSpine
Summary: Regina is a chef who runs her own restaurant, Regal Cuisine. One evening, she meets a local food critic, Emma Swan, who loves food just a little more than most.





	1. Regal Cuisine

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I wasn't going to post again for a while, but I'm already feeling better and I'm getting back in the groove. Came up with this yesterday while watching Kitchen Nightmares.

Regal Cuisine was a huge success, and Regina couldn’t have been prouder of her accomplishments. Four years of culinary school had certainly been worth every penny. Her mother never did like her career path, constantly urging her to be a lawyer, but Regina had no interest in law. The only order she was concerned with was that of her kitchen, and currently, the place was bustling.

The waiters and waitresses were shuffling around the place, bringing back empty plates and taking away new orders to their designated tables. The cooks were just as busy, skillfully-preparing all of the exquisite recipes Regina had put on the menu. Regina worked hard to make her dishes as close to perfect as humanly possible, and she made them affordable, which was partly why her restaurant was so popular.

The main reason, of course, was because of how incredible the food was.

One evening, a blonde woman walked in, observing the place with an unreadable expression. She was seated in a booth in the back of the restaurant, and to start, she ordered a simple glass of water. As an appetizer, she requested the fried calamari, and of course, she asked if it was fresh. When the waitress told her that it was, she just nodded and thanked the woman, sensing no deception. She had always been good at detecting lies.

She got her calamari much faster than expected, which was admittedly a concern, as she feared they may not have been fully-cooked, but the second she bit into a piece, she felt as though she had died and gone to Heaven. When the time came to order her meal, she opted for the New York strip and lobster, and of course, she wanted her steak medium-rare, for in her mind, there was no other way to eat it.

She only waited half an hour for her food, which she supposed was reasonable for steak and lobster, and she had no complaints. Yet. From what she could see, the place was clean, the silverware was polished like a suit of armor, and the plates were as clean as a whistle.

After what seemed to her like an eternity, though she knew it was a mere thirty-two minutes (as told by the timer on her phone), she had her dinner in front of her. The aroma was, for the lack of a better term, _divine._ It was moments like these that made her believe in a kind and merciful God.

Biting into her lobster was like an epiphany, and the second her steak met her tongue, she felt like she’d just had an orgasm. It was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the best thing she had ever tasted. She took her time, chewing slowly so as to savor it all. Each bite drove her closer and closer to ecstasy. She felt like she was partaking in Ambrosia, and it was truly incredible.

When she was finally done, and the waitress came to give her the bill, she politely asked, “Is there any way I could speak to the head chef?”

“I’ll see what I can do, ma’am.”

The blonde smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

The waitress disappeared into the kitchen, and just moments later, a dark-haired woman in a white chef’s coat stepped out with a look of concern. She approached the booth silently, folding her hands together in front of her.

“Is there a problem, miss?”

“Not at all,” said the blonde, “I just wanted to tell you that never in my life have I ever eaten a more perfect meal. My compliments to you and your restaurant, Chef Mills.”

The encounter left Regina stunned, but grateful. What truly shocked her was when she was shown a newspaper article just two days later by her sous-chef, August.

“Hey Chef, look at this.”

The man handed her the paper, and there, on the front page, was a short article by the rather infamous food-critic, Emma Swan. As Regina read it, her eyes grew wider and wider, and her mouth was agape. Reading it left her at a loss for words.

_As an avid lover of food, I have been to many restaurants and eaten many different meals in my lifetime, but of all the establishments I have ever been in, Regal Cuisine is certainly the best. It is clean, it is affordable, and most importantly, it is delicious. The staff is excellent, the calamari is fresh— as is the lobster— and the steak is to die for. _

_The experience I had while eating here was indeed a spiritual one. I feel like I’ve been reborn. I rarely rate a place five-stars, but Regal Cuisine undoubtedly deserves it. No name is more fitting. While I was there, I felt like I was partaking in a royal feast. This is, without question, the greatest restaurant to have ever graced our city._

There were tears in Regina’s eyes. Joyful tears, of course. She held the newspaper over her heart. That was when it dawned on her. The blonde woman from the other night was Emma Swan. She’d never seen the woman before, so she couldn’t put a face to the name, but now she was sure of it. Emma Swan, one of the most despised food-critics in Boston, had given her restaurant five-stars. She truly felt like she’d been blessed by the angels.

“August?”

“Yes, Chef?”

“Something tells me we’re going to get a lot of business from here on out. We need to be prepared.”

August nodded. “Yes, Chef.”

* * *

Regina was right. Thanks to Emma’s review, business was booming.

That same weekend, the blonde in the red jacket returned, and once again, she sat in the booth at the back, close to the kitchen. This time, she ordered the chicken parmesan, and just like before, each bite was phenomenal.

Regina watched from the kitchen as Emma ate the food, and she was a little taken aback, as it looked like the blonde was enjoying her meal more than most would have. She found this odd, but chose not to think much of it. As long as her seemingly-biggest fan was happy, then so was she.

Regina couldn’t ignore the strangeness, however, when she saw Emma run a finger through the sauce and suck on it suggestively. What made this all the more puzzling was the fact that Emma didn’t seem to realize anyone was watching her.

Sometime later, when she saw that Emma was finished, Regina went up to the blonde’s table with a smile.

“I saw your review in the paper,” she said, “I really appreciate the praise, Miss Swan. It means a lot to me. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Emma smiled. “I wouldn’t mind trying one of your apple turnovers. I hear they’re heavenly.”

Regina couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll have that out for you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Chef.”

“Thank _you,”_ said Regina.


	2. The Penthouse

Each weekend, when Emma walked into the restaurant, Regina would watch her from afar, and each time, she would behave rather strangely when she thought no one was looking. With the shrimp fettuccine, she sucked up all the noodles at a slow pace, and when it came to the chocolate cake, she would smear a little of the icing on her lips with her finger and lick it all up.

One night, when all the other customers had left, Emma stayed behind to have yet another chat with the head chef. She’d ordered spaghetti and meatballs, and as usual, she had emptied her plate. She offered a smile along with her gratitude, and it all seemed genuine, but there was something in her eyes that Regina found mildly unsettling. It was almost like she was aroused.

“I hope you enjoyed your spaghetti, Miss Swan.”

“Oh, it was wonderful— and please,” said the blonde, “call me Emma.”

“Alright, Emma. Can I interest you in dessert? Tonight’s special is Andes Mint Cheesecake.”

Emma placed a hand upon her stomach. “As delicious as that sounds, I’m afraid I can’t eat another bite.” She was quiet for a moment. “But I would like to ask a favor of you, Chef.”

“Oh?”

Emma smiled. “I hope it’s not too much to ask, but I was wondering if you would like to have a drink with me.”

This left Regina taken aback, and heat rose to her cheeks. “A— A drink?”

The blonde nodded. “Yes. I have a wide variety of wine at my place. You seem like someone who knows her wine, or am I wrong?”

“I do like wine, though I don’t drink it often.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“I like champagne more than anything.”

Emma’s smile widened. “That makes two of us,” she said. She stared deep into Regina’s eyes. “So? Would you like to come over for a drink?”

A smile tugged at the chef’s lips. “I think I would,” she said, “Just give me a time and a place.”

“When are you free?”

“Saturday.”

“Saturday it is, then. Six-o’clock. Come to the penthouse at Hyperion Heights.”

Regina’s eyes widened. “The penthouse?”

Emma nodded. “That’s right.”

“Okay,” Regina said, a little bewildered, “I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

* * *

The days seemed to blend together, but then Saturday night rolled around, and Regina found herself standing outside the door to the penthouse of the Hyperion Heights apartment complex. She didn’t have to wait long. Emma answered the door within ten seconds, as if she’d been standing right on the other side, awaiting Regina’s arrival.

The blonde grinned. “Hello, Chef.”

“We’re not at the restaurant. You can call me Regina.”

Emma nodded. “Alright, Regina. Please, come in and make yourself at home.”

Regina walked into the penthouse and was left speechless. There was a bookcase that took up an entire wall, and each shelf was packed to the brim with cookbooks, magazines, and even some books written by Gordon Ramsay, Paula Deen, Guy Fieri, and several others.

Regina didn’t have much time to browse, for Emma came out from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses.

“Are you hungry? I can whip something up, though I doubt it will be as good as the things you make.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Regina, “but yes, I could eat. I don’t want to impose on you, though. You don’t have to cook for me.”

“But I’d like to,” Emma told her, “You’ve cooked for me seven times now. I think I should return the favor.”

“Yes, but you paid for your dinner.”

“And it was worth _every penny.”_

* * *

Regina sat at the counter, quietly sipping her champagne as she watched Emma make some chicken-fried rice. Her mouth watered as the aroma wafted through the air.

Emma had her back turned to Regina as she cooked, but she continued to talk, occasionally drinking some wine.

“So, Regina,” she said, “as I’m sure you know, I _love_ food.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Yes, but you see, I really, _really_ love food.”

Emma slowly turned to face the brunette and took a sip of her drink, eyeing the chef almost seductively over the rim of the glass.

“The thought of eating, or seeing someone else eat, well, it excites me. I would even go so far as to say it _arouses me._ I exercise daily to maintain a healthy weight. If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be able to walk. One of my favorite things to eat is chocolate— especially _melted_ chocolate.”

Regina was speechless.

Emma took another drink.

“One of my greatest fantasies is stripping down, drizzling melted chocolate on my skin, and having a beautiful woman lick it off,” she said. Her voice was dripping with desire. “And of course, I’ve also dreamed of doing the licking. What about you, Regina? Do you have any desires?”

As much as Regina didn’t want to admit it, Emma’s words left her hot and bothered. “I— I, um,” she swallowed, “Sometimes I imagine myself lying naked on a table while people eat sushi off of me.”

Emma’s eyes were eclipsed with desire. _“Nyotaimori,_ you say? Then it seems you and I aren’t so different, after all,” she husked, “Would you like to do that, Regina? Is that something you’d be willing to try?”

“Y-You want to— eat sushi off of me?”

Emma’s lips curled into a half-smirk. There was a distinct madness in her eyes, but Regina found it more appealing than appalling.

“It would be my pleasure,” she said, “and hopefully yours, as well. Shame we don’t have any sushi. What I _do_ have, however, is chocolate.”

Regina swallowed. “What makes you think I want to do that?”

“You haven’t said no.”

The brunette was silent for a moment as she thought this over. “Alright,” she said softly, “Let’s do this.”

Emma grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”


	3. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but includes sexy-time

Emma moaned in pleasure as Regina’s tongue encircled her stiff nipple, lapping up the creamy chocolate. Seeing the sweet substance drip from the brunette’s lips and chin made her thighs glisten in the dim light of the apartment.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” she rasped, “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Regina leaned up and kissed her, slipping that warm tongue into her mouth and overwhelming her with the aroma and the flavor of the equally-warm chocolate. They both moaned. Emma sucked at Regina’s lower lip, licking away the chocolate.

“You see?” she husked, “Isn’t this incredible?”

_“Yes,”_ Regina said breathily.

She lowered her head to the space between Emma’s breasts and ran her tongue through the chocolate she found there. She kissed and licked her way down Emma’s taut stomach, causing the blonde’s back to arch.

Emma tangled her fingers in the brunette’s swarthy locks, moaning softly as she felt Regina’s hands on her thighs, spreading them wide. She locked eyes with Regina, gazing at the woman with sheer desire.

“Regina,” she murmured, _“please.” _

The brunette understood what she meant, even if it wasn’t said. It didn’t need to be.

Regina licked the chocolate from her lips before bringing them to the smooth space between Emma’s thighs. She ran her tongue through the slick folds, making Emma gasp and groan in pleasure, all the while rocking her hips uncontrollably.

It didn’t take much longer for Emma to reach her climax. Once she did, she held Regina close to her.

* * *

Soon, they found themselves in the shower. Chocolate was oozing down the drain along with the warm water. Emma had her mouth on Regina’s neck and her fingers curling deep inside the brunette’s sopping cunt. She reveled in each and every moan and quiet curse that spilled from the chef’s lips. She nipped playfully at Regina’s earlobe.

“You gonna come for me, Regina?”

Regina let out a groan of pleasure. _“Fuck.” _

Emma chuckled, adding a fourth finger to the mix. "Exactly." She had Regina pinned against the wall, pumping her fingers roughly against that sweet spot within the brunette’s pussy.

“Emma,” Regina breathed, “I’m— _God—_ I’m coming.”

She snaked her arms around Emma’s shoulders and brought up a leg to hook it around the blonde’s waist in an attempt to draw her closer. She gasped when she felt Emma’s thumb meet her swollen clit, rubbing harsh circles into it in a clear attempt to bring her closer and closer to orgasm.

She cried out softly as she came. _“Emma!” _

Her essence spilled onto Emma’s fingers, and she watched with half-lidded eyes as the blonde licked them clean.

A low groan escaped Emma. “I was wrong before,” she said, “There is nothing as exquisite as _this.”_ She brought her fingers up to Regina’s lips. “Here,” she rasped, “Taste.”

Regina hesitated, but did as Emma said, and her eyes slipped shut as she moaned.

“Good girl,” Emma husked.

They kissed, and they stayed there in the shower until the water felt like ice, and only then did they get out.

* * *

After leaving the penthouse, Regina didn’t see Emma again until two nights later, sitting in her usual spot at the back of the restaurant. She didn’t order an entrée this time. She only asked for champagne and chocolate cake, and when she spotted the head chef watching her from the kitchen, she smiled and raised her glass to Regina in a silent toast.

That same night, when Regina closed up the restaurant, she walked out towards her black Mercedes and was pleasantly surprised to find a single rose resting against the windshield, along with a small envelope. She picked up the rose and the envelope and climbed inside. She opened up the envelope, and in it was a note with a brief message scrawled onto it, along with a phone number.

_My place. Tomorrow night. Six-o’clock. _

_–Your biggest fan, Emma._


	4. Nyotaimori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyotaimori- the Japanese practice of serving sashimi or sushi from the naked body of a woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sushi rolls featured here are my personal favorites :) 
> 
> Unfortunately, I can't use chopsticks...

Regina was lying still upon the rug. She would not be lying on the table, and Emma respected her decision. Instead, they were in the living room. There was one pillow under her head and another under her knees to help make her more comfortable.

Emma was sitting next to Regina with her legs tucked beneath her and a pair of chopsticks in her hand. She was staring at the brunette in a mix of lust and hunger. She’d spent the last three hours preparing the her most favored sushi: the California Roll, the Dragon Roll, the Rainbow Roll, the Philadelphia Roll, the Tiger Roll, and of course, the Fuji Roll.

She started with the California Roll, skillfully picking up a piece with her chopsticks. As usual, she stuffed the entire piece in her mouth at once, and her eyes slipped shut as she chewed it. When she swallowed, she looked at Regina with a soft smile.

“It isn’t customary, but I would like to offer you some sushi, Regina. I will not have you feeling objectified. You are a human being, and an incredible one, at that.”

The brunette seemed taken aback by this, but was pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

Emma nodded. “Which would you like?”

“Which would you recommend?”

“I prefer the Fuji Roll above all else.”

“Then I’d like to try that one, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Emma took her chopsticks and brought the sushi to Regina’s lips, and the brunette accepted it happily. Emma’s breath grew heavy as she watched Regina chew, and her heartbeat became faster when she heard the woman give a soft hum of approval. It almost sounded like a moan.

“I take it you enjoyed it?”

Regina smiled and nodded. “I did. Very much so,” she said, “Thank you.”

Emma licked her lips unknowingly. “It was my pleasure.”

And she continued this cycle of eating and sharing until finally, the sushi was all gone. When it was over, she removed the leaves from Regina’s body and helped her up.

“How was it, Regina? Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

Regina couldn’t help but smile. “Everything and _more,”_ she murmured, “Thank you, Emma.”

Emma leaned in and planted a light kiss upon her cheek. “No,” she said softly, “Thank _you.”_

Regina knew she would never look at sushi the same way again, but that wasn’t a bad thing, by any means. As the days passed, and she prepared food in her kitchen, she couldn’t keep her mind off of Emma or the rush of heat that pooled between her thighs each time she thought of the blonde eating sushi off of her. She bit her lip as she cut into a fillet of salmon, and a quiet moan escaped her.

“You alright, Chef?” asked August.

Regina jumped a little, feeling startled, and brought a hand over her heart. “Yes,” she said quickly, “Thank you, August.”

The man nodded. “Alright,” he said, and he went back to preparing the sauce for the salmon.

After twenty minutes, one of the waitresses, Ashley, carried the dish out to the booth where Emma was sitting, as always.

“Here you go, ma’am,” said Ashley, “Salmon with garlic lemon butter sauce.”

Emma smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Can I get you some more water?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, let me get that for you.”

Ashley went to fetch a pitcher of cool water and refilled Emma’s glass. Again, Emma thanked her, and she left to wait on another table.

As Emma _thoroughly_ enjoyed her meal, she was oblivious to the way Regina was gaping at her from the kitchen.

The brunette’s breath was ragged, like she was trying not to moan. Her thighs were clenched. Heat was rushing down to her core, making her quiver with excitement.

When the restaurant closed, and everyone went home for the night, Regina walked out to her car and climbed inside. As she did, she heard someone tapping at the passenger side window and looked to see Emma smiling at her. She rolled down the window and smiled back at the blonde.

“Hello, Emma. Do you need a ride?”

“No,” said the blonde, “I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the salmon. It was exquisite.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Have a good night, Regina.”

The brunette nodded. “You too, dear.”


	5. A Night at the Storybrooke Theater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short final chapter with a *major* plot twist ~ oooh! ~   
I hope you like it! 
> 
> Definitely considering sequels, or at least, stories that tie into this one :)

Time went on, and the two women were inseparable. One night, after work, Regina went over to Emma’s apartment and they sat in the dim living room, drinking champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“I really like spending time with you, Emma,” Regina murmured.

Emma smiled. “Yeah, me too. I— I really— _fuck._ I just screwed up the line.”

_“Cut!”_ shouted the director.

The pair set down their glasses and Emma scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Sorry, guys. I’m just tired. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.”

Regina rested her hand atop Emma’s. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, “We just started the scene. We can do it as many times as we need to.”

Emma nodded and smiled. “Thanks, baby. I love you.”

Regina kissed her sweetly. “Love you, too.”

“You really think people will like this?”

“I’m sure they will,” said Regina.

“Alright you two, let’s get back into character,” said the director.

Again, Emma nodded. “Sure thing, Mr. Jones.”

* * *

Six months later, the Storybrooke Theater was packed with excited people, all gathered for the premiere of _Sugar and Spice,_ the latest passion project by Killian Jones. As with most of his films, this one starred Emma and Regina Swan-Mills, two of the finest actresses in the business. Their relationship was just as _electric_ in reality as it was onscreen.

The posters were everywhere, and it was made perfectly-clear that this was not a film for anyone under eighteen. There were ads on TV, on the radio, in the papers, in magazines, and on billboards. There was no escaping the news of this daring new film by the eccentric director. Unlike Jones’ other masterpieces, this one did not have any in-universe ties to the others. It was an enigma, much like himself.

Everyone involved in the film was there for the big premiere. The camera crew, the extras, the director, and of course, the leading ladies. The press was there as well, flashing their cameras and bombarding the actors with question after question.

_“Do you really eat sushi off of your wife?” _

_“Is this something you do in real life?”_

_ “How’s your sex-life?”_

Thankfully, this didn’t last long, as the movie was starting and they needed to get seated. The trailers before the film got everyone hyped up, as they included another one of Jones’ upcoming movies, _The Hyperion,_ starring Emma as the captain of a spaceship in an epic sci-fi adventure, and Regina as the beautiful alien Queen.

And then, as the lights were dimmed and the room got eerily quiet, the movie began. Emma clutched her wife’s hand tightly, and without a word. Emma wore a black suit and tie. Regina was sporting a lovely floral dress. They were both wearing their wedding rings, and bright smiles to match.

One thing was for sure: this was _certainly_ going to be interesting.


End file.
